The Treason of Colonel Robert E Hogan
by Book 'em Again
Summary: It was in that moment that I swore an oath. An oath that I would have sworn on a Bible wrapped in an American flag if one had been available. I swore to my country and to my God that I would escape Stalag Thirteen and report the treason of Colonel Robert E. Hogan or my name was not Samuel Flagg.


With the Japs violating our sacred soil and the threat of Gerry determined to conquer the world, one would think that every American citizen would whole heartedly seek the destruction of her enemies.

It was to my dismay that I discovered that this was not the case and so I, Samuel Flagg, made it my solemn duty to seek out those wolves in sheep's clothing, those traitors who sought the destruction of my fair country.

My mission was supposed to be a simple one. My superiors got wind that a pilot in the United States Army Air Corps was married to the daughter of German immigrants and they had reason to be suspicious of his loyalties. It was my job to confirm or disprove those suspicions. It only took a couple of phone calls to the right people before I was able to assume the persona of Sergeant Flagg, a tail gunner in the USAAC, and join Captain Martin's crew.

The good news was that I was able to quickly gain confirmation of Martin's treason. The bad news was that I had gained that confirmation when that traitor had allowed the Huns to shoot down a valuable piece of military property.

That despicable turncoat must have been onto me.

Under normal circumstances, I never would have let Gerry capture me alive but my parachute also proved treasonous as I got tangled up in a tree. So I was stuck until a passing patrol cut me down and dragged me unwillingly into captivity.

But even as those Huns lead me away in chains, I held my head high; for captivity was a small price to pay for fulfilling one's duty to one's country. Oh, those Gerry guards tried to make me betray all that I held sacred. But I swore to them that I was impervious to pain. That I would never be a traitor unlike that cowardly Captain Martin. I let them know that we were onto to their spy. That their pathetic attempt at infiltrating the USAAC had failed.

My captors reacted to that. I knew my words must have had their desired effect for the Huns chattered in their native tongue before sending me back to my cell. A few days later, I was placed in the back of truck and driven to a POW camp.

Standing in Stalag Thirteen for the first time, I looked around the camp seeking my way out. The barbed wire, the guards, the dogs – they were mere obstacles, nothing more. I refused to be dismayed, for there is no simple prison camp in existence that could hold a Flagg. For I am the wind; and as the wind, I blew wherever I wished. No one would ever see me leave.

As I contemplated my inevitable escape, the unwelcome voice of my enemy demanded that I follow him. I disliked following orders of any man, let alone an order from an enemy. Yet as I studied the rather large guard, I know that I would have to think carefully about how I would bring him down if it came to that. So for the moment I decided to play the cooperative prisoner and followed the guard into a nearby building that appeared to be an office. I am a good actor, after all.

"Hiya, Schultz," called out the overly friendly voice, to my shock and horror, of an American colonel who joined us during our walk. "Pick up another prisoner? You know you ought to complain to Klink about all these new men. It has to be hard on you guards. The number of prisoners goes up but the number of guards remains the same."

"Less," the guard stated sadly.

"More eager volunteers longing for the beauty of the Russian front?" the officer asked with a grin.

My brain was barely able to keep up with the conversation as it was overwhelmed by the way this American officer was acting so causally in front of an enemy guard. This officer's actions were not leaving a good taste in my mouth.

"Colonel Hogan," Schultz whined, "you mustn't joke about such things." Then he added in a whisper, "It was another desertion."

Hogan whistled. "You know, why don't you let the prisoners guard the guards? You'd lose fewer men that way."

"That is not funny."

Thankfully, the conversation was cut short as we stepped into the office where a pretty little young woman was busy with a typewriter. She smiled as she saw us walk in and I glared back. I would not be a man who betrayed his country for a pretty face. Hogan however had no qualms about smiling back. Did this man have no shame?

I was quickly ushered into another office where the Kommandant rose to greet us. But before he could say a word, Hogan said, "Heard there was an escape last night."

"Hogan! You know that no one ever escapes from Stalag Thirteen."

"Expect for your guards."

"Expect for my…" the Kommandant stuttered. "Hogan, I should have you thrown into the cooler for your American insolence."

Hogan's grin was back. It was beginning to annoy me. Besides, every inch of this kommandant's bearing said proper military officer and if his statement about there being no escapes from his camp was correct, it appeared that he would be a very worthy opponent indeed.

The Kommandant turned his gaze on me and said, "Welcome to Stalag Thirteen. For you the war is over. My name is Kommandant Klink and be assured I run a tough and disciplined camp. There has never been a successful escape from this Stalag so the faster you resign yourself to your fate the happier you will be."

"I will admit we are happier than your guards," Hogan quipped.

I had to bite my lip to stop my jaw from dropping. This man was an absolute disgrace to the uniform he wore and the country he served.

"Hogan!" Klink cried out again before continuing with his spiel to me. "I need your name, rank and the location of your airbase in England."

The cocky American colonel faced me for the first time and said, "Remember, just name, rank and serial number."

I was annoyed that Hogan thought that I needed a reminder. I was not the one acting like I was long lost friends with every German I saw. Determined not to let Hogan's actions get in the way of performing my duty, I quickly gave my cover information. "Samuel Flagg. Sergeant. 14202089."

A few questions followed but the Kommandant quickly realized a fellow competent soldier when he saw one and ordered Schultz to assign me to a barracks.

"There is room in Barracks Seven, Herr Kommandant." I did not fail to notice that Schultz looked at Hogan as he spoke as if asking for the enemy's permission.

Warning bells started going off in my head. There was something fishy going on in this camp beyond forbidden friendships and I was determined to discover what it was.

Klink dismissed us after that and Hogan quickly disappeared while Schultz escorted me to my temporary home. I would not be staying long.

The barrack's chief, a captain by the name of Haag, gave me the grand tour and introduced me to a ragtag bunch of Americans, Englishmen and a man from New Zealand. It was hard to believe that these men were soldiers with their slovenly dress and languid manner.

As I looked around, I was beginning to see why there had been no escapes and yet it was inconceivable that a camp of this size should have no escapes. I was aware that our army held a few traitors and cowards, yes, but not every man in this camp could be one, could they?

This called for an investigation and I saw no reason to not start that investigation immediately. I began by focusing on the men in front of me, asking them first about tunnels and weak spots in the wire and then moved on to trying to get them to share stories of their past escape attempts. The POWs seemed uncomfortable answering my questions. They were hiding something – I knew it!

I kept pressing the Americans – one couldn't expect foreigners to be as patriotic after all – until Captain Haag finally announced that all escape attempts must be approved by Colonel Hogan.

That was the answer I had been waiting for. I now had all the facts that I needed.

Fact one: there were no escapes from Stalag Thirteen.  
Fact two: all escape attempts must be pre-approved by Colonel Hogan.  
Fact three: none of these escape attempts ever worked.  
Fact four: that meant Colonel Hogan was responsible for the lack of escapes.

That was a troubling thought. A deeply troubling thought.

Suddenly, it came to me. There was only one explanation for this 'no escape' record. Colonel Robert E. Hogan was a traitor to the United States of America.

It appeared that even in a POW camp, I was still able to identify those dirty Gerry lovers who wished America harm.

Now I just needed to escape and make a report on Hogan's traitorous activities so my superiors could respond accordingly. They would probably have to bomb the whole camp. That would be the only way to ensure that Hogan's taint did not infect the whole military.

However, there was one thing standing in my way of truth, justice and the American way – I needed proof.

My superiors for some strange reason insisted on proof. I hated finding proof. It seemed so unnecessary. My word as an intelligence officer should be sufficient. Someday, I swore, it would be.

Knowing that the easiest way to confirm my suspicions would be to confront Hogan, I wasted no time. But, as I walked into Hogan's barracks, a disturbing sight lay before me. I easily spotted Hogan but he seemed deep in conversation with a crew of suspicious individuals. There was a dodgy looking Englishman who, when I heard his accent, I knew could not be trusted. Next to him was a short cowardly Frenchman. Everyone knew that all Frenchman were cowards; how else did one explain their surrender? Hogan's hand rested on the shoulder of a… I blinked my eyes not believing what I was seeing – a Negro! I did not want to know why Hogan would fraternize with a colored. For not only was it against army regulations, it went against the laws of human nature. The last member of Hogan's little band looked innocent enough: a skinny little sergeant – at least _he_ was a proper American. Though I feared Hogan's treasonous influence had already corrupted him beyond all redemption.

Hogan did not seem pleased at the interruption. That was alright, I never aimed to please.

"Flagg, if you need anything, you are to go through your barracks' chief."

"He told me that for this I needed to speak with you."

Crossing his arms across his chest, Hogan said, "Let's hear it."

"Request permission to escape."

Hogan chuckled. "Eager to go home, are you?"

"Aren't we all?" I challenged.

Hogan didn't rise to my challenge. "What's your plan?"

Plan? Why would I need to plan? My best work has always been done with as little thinking as possible. "I don't need to plan. I will escape – tonight."

The Englishman let out a snort but was quickly silenced by a pointed look from the colonel.

"Sergeant, did you not hear the Kommandant? No one has ever escaped from Stalag Thirteen."

"A record that is a disgrace to every God-fearing American patriot." I didn't even try to keep my distain from my voice.

"I agree, but it's not from a lack of trying, I can assure you. Flagg, if you are determined to be the first, you are going to need a good plan. I suggest," Hogan said in a tone that made it clear his suggestion was really an order, "that you take a couple days to study the guards and this camp and return when you have an idea that you think will work."

"I …" I protested.

"Dismissed, Sergeant."

I privately bristled at the order. I disliked this posing as a noncom. No respect. Turning on my heel, I walked outside without a word. I refused to salute traitors on principle.

Anger threatened to overwhelm me as I stood alone in the middle of the compound. Out of all the prison camps in Germany, I had to land in a camp full of traitors. Hogan would pay for what he had done.

It was in that moment that I swore an oath. An oath that I would have sworn on a Bible wrapped in an American flag if one had been available. I swore to my country and to my God that I would escape Stalag Thirteen and report the treason of Colonel Robert E. Hogan or my name was not Samuel Flagg.

Hmm, that oath still needed something. Glancing around, I noticed that the skinny American sergeant who was with Hogan had also stepped outside. "You there," I hollered.

"Me?"

"Find me an American flag."

"Excuse me?"

"Are you deaf? Bring me an American flag and a Bible."

"Why?"

"To make an oath. All oaths must be sworn on something sacred and nothing is more sacred than United States of America and also Jesus Christ."

"Did anyone ever tell you that you're nuts?" the POW exclaimed.

"All the time," I answered honestly. "But that is not your concern. That traitor Hogan must be dealt with."

"You think Colonel Hogan is a traitor?"

"I do not think."

"I already guessed that," the POW murmured.

"I know Colonel Hogan is a traitor."

"If you say so."

"I do say so."

"Sorry to disappoint you, Flagg, but the only flag in camp is over there." The sergeant pointed toward the kommandant's office. "And I doubt you want to swear on a swastika."

"That was over the line, soldier."

"Geez, I was just joking."

"I never joke."

"I'm beginning to see that."

Puffing out my chest, I solemnly said, "I must warn you: you are either with me or against America. And I promise you that you do not want to be against America."

"If you think Colonel Hogan is a traitor than I guess that means I am against America."

"I could have you court-martialed."

"You're no officer."

"That's what I want you to believe."

The sergeant shot me an odd look before hurrying off towards his barracks – probably to report to Hogan. It appeared that I was right; Hogan had corrupted the poor boy.

That just meant that I would have to go it alone. That was not a problem. I did my best work alone.

Hmm, once that sergeant reported to Hogan, the traitor would know that I was on to him. That meant I needed to escape now, before Hogan could make a move to protect himself.

One quick glance around the compound and I quickly spotted my way out. _ Who needed a plan now, Colonel Hogan?_

I moved quickly, taking great care so that the guards couldn't see my movements. I could be practically invisible when I wanted to be; it was a skill that came in handy in many a mission. In a few short moments, I was a few feet away from my ride to freedom: a garbage truck.

I would jump into one of the cans waiting to be loaded. The fact that the guard was checking for escaped prisoners by sticking his bayonet into the cans was of no concern to me. I was a Flagg and I had been trained to endure great pain silently; I considered it an honor to undergo suffering for the sake of my country.

So when guard turned to load another can onto the truck, I quickly climbed into one of the remaining pails. After ensuring that trash covered my body, I braced myself against the sides of and prepared to receive a wound.

"Halt!" a booming voice cried out about a minute later. Then after hearing footsteps and the labored breathing of someone approaching my hiding spot, the voice continued, "There is a prisoner hiding in that garbage can."

Before I could curse my ill begotten luck, the can was tipped over and I found myself tumbling onto the ground. As I looked up, I saw that the guard who had cried out was Schultz and that standing a few feet behind him was that runt of a Frenchman who gave me a small wave.

That Vichy traitor! It seemed I had not moved fast enough.

I climbed to my feet and stood erect, ignoring the bits of food scraps that clung to my clothing. I may have been caught and I may have been outsmarted by a bunch of collaborators but I would never be without out my dignity.

It was at that moment that I noticed the hunched over form of Kommandant Klink approaching and for a moment I wondered if this imposing colonel had a sixth sense for trouble.

"Schultz! What is going on here?"

Schultz saluted his commanding officer. "Herr Kommandant, I caught this prisoner trying to escape in the garbage truck."

Klink looked giddy with glee; now this was a man who was proud of his military accomplishments, "Didn't I warn you, Flagg? No one ever escapes from Stalag Thirteen!"

My pride demanded that I remain silent. I would endure whatever punishment my captor chose to inflict upon me. Nothing could be worse than the knowledge that I had been betrayed by those who should have assisted me.

"Thirty days in the cooler!" Klink announced.

As I was escorted to the cooler, I allowed my revulsion of Colonel Hogan to grow within my soul. Oh, how I hated that traitor and his band of followers. They would pay for what they had done. So I was not pleased to discover Hogan's intrusion into the cooler not even five minutes after I had been locked into my cell.

It appeared that Hogan had wormed his way past Sergeant Schultz as my keen eyes did not fail to notice the candy bar that Hogan had handed to guard before the German left the cooler. It looked like I needed to add giving chocolate the enemy to Hogan's growing list of crimes.

Hogan looked confident and annoyed as he approached my cell. His gaze bore into me but I was not intimidated. While Hogan did outrank me, I was still his superior in loyalty and dedication to country, and I would not back down.

Hogan spoke first. "Who are you really, Flagg?"

Leaning forward so that only the metal bars separated me from my enemy, I stated firmly, "I don't have to answer to traitors."

Hogan didn't blink an eye. "You basically told Carter that you are an officer and one with the authority to bring him up on a court-martial."

"Does that thought scare you, Hogan?"

"Are you afraid of answering my question?'

"Major Samuel Flagg, CIC." I watched Hogan carefully to see if my words had the desired effect.

Hogan raised an eyebrow. "Counterintelligence. That description seems apt."

I had no idea what Hogan was getting at but it felt like an insult. I refused to let the words of a traitor hurt me, so boldly I continued on. "Yes, and I promise you that I will escape from this camp and when I do, the whole army will know of your treason."

"I wouldn't get your hopes up, Flagg. You're stuck in this cell for the next thirty days and I believe that by the time your thirty days are up, we will have found a solution to this misunderstanding."

I did not like the sound of that. It seemed that Hogan was willing to engage in wanton murder. My life would not be worth much if I remained in this cell.

"Your threats do not intimidate me, Hogan. I will live to see you brought up on charges."

"Then we have nothing more to discuss." Hogan turned and swiftly walked out of the cooler, leaving me alone.

Good. I liked it better that way. For now I was truly alone for the first time since I had arrived in Stalag Thirteen, and I could finally work without interference and escape for good this time.

Looking around my cell, I quickly found the one thing I needed to make good on my promise to escape. As I hefted the chair in front of me, I confirmed that it would do quite nicely.

Gritting my teeth, I prepared myself for what I was about to do. It was going to hurt a lot but I would not let a little pain get in the way of my duty. After all, I only needed two good legs and my wits in order to escape, and I could do without my wits if necessary.

I brought the chair leg down hard on my left forearm.

The scream that I allowed myself to let loose brought a guard running almost immediately.

The next several minutes were a blur in my mind as I heard a variety of voices: the guards, Klink and Hogan all debating about what to do with me. Finally, I was carried into the back of a truck and Schultz rode with me to a local hospital.

That drive into town almost made me regret my decision to break my arm as every bump in the road caused new pains to join the existing ones. But like any good soldier, I bore the news pains in silence for it meant that I was being carried out of Stalag Thirteen and away from Hogan's treasonous grasp.

Once at the hospital I decided to refrain from escaping until my injury was tended to. For if the enemy was going to give me valuable assistance at no cost to my honor, than I would gladly take it.

A squat gruff doctor looked at my arm and promptly declared that it was broken. He issued what sounded like several commands to a rather plain looking nurse but I couldn't be sure. German is such a harsh and barbaric language; I never understood why the German people insisted on speaking it. Why couldn't they be like the English and follow America's example and speak proper English?

My ears were spared further linguistic abuse as the doctor tended to my arm in silence. The nurse seemed nervous at my presence and after returning with the supplies, she stood by silently as the doctor worked. The nurse's fear pleased me and gave me comfort during those moments of pain, as it was only right and proper that an enemy of democracy should be fearful in the presence of a real American hero.

Once my arm was secured in the cast, the doctor moved to the door of my room to speak with Schultz. I knew immediately that this presented my best chance to escape. For my foolish guards had placed me in a room on the first floor.

I did not hesitate. I sprinted over to the closed window, opened it with my good hand and jumped out onto the ground below.

No one saw me leave.

But it didn't take long for them to realize I was gone as the alarm was raised from inside the hospital during the few moments it took me to move away from the building and run out onto the street. Once I stood on that cobbled road, I was immediately faced with a problem. For while I normally had the gift of being invisible when needed I it, I realized that it was difficult to be invisible when one is a young American in uniform with an arm in cast in the middle of a busy street full of enemy citizens.

Subtlety would have to wait for another time; I just sprinted for the closest side street and tried to lose any potential pursuit. But as I turned the corner I was shocked beyond belief when I found myself standing face to face with the English companion of Hogan's who was dressed in a Luftwaffe uniform and pointing a gun at my face. "Freeze, Flagg!" he barked out.

I spat at him and shot the dirty traitor my darkest glare as I was forced to come to a halt. Even though I was not afraid to give my life for my country, I also knew that if I was shot on the street like a dog, the army would remain unaware of Hogan's treason.

My captor eyes never left me as he began shouting loudly in perfect German. I had to stop my jaw from dropping out of shock as it appeared that the Englishman was no Englishman at all but a dirty kraut!

I didn't know what my hated enemy said, but it brought an out of breath Schultz running to the scene. "Oh, you caught him," Schultz cried out in joy, only to drop his rifle a few seconds later after getting a glimpse of who had nabbed me. "Newkirk! What are you doing out of camp? What are you doing in a German uniform? And with a gun! Oh, I am going to be in so much trouble."

Newkirk handed Schultz his dropped weapon. "Trouble? I would think that you would be a hero for capturing this dangerous prisoner."

"But...but…" Schultz stammered.

"Okay, Schultz, you can capture me and explain to Klink how I got out of camp and got caught impersonating a German soldier. I won't resist."

Schultz shot Newkirk a meaningful look before grabbing me by my good arm and dragging me back towards the hospital. "I see nothing. Nothing!"

I considered myself a good operative. One who was easily able to see through lies and deceptions and cut straight to the truth of any matter. But I fear I must confess that the scene between Schultz and Newkirk left me thoroughly baffled.

Unfortunately, I had the long ride back to Stalag Thirteen to consider the matter. The problem was that I couldn't shake Hogan. The traitor's reach was long and he seemed to be able to anticipate any move I made. While I promised myself that I would never stop fighting, it was with a heavy heart that I walked into Klink's office where the kommandant and Hogan were waiting.

Klink spoke first. "So, Flagg, it seems that you have not learned your lesson. When will you learn that Stalag Thirteen is escape proof?"

Before I could answer, Hogan butted in. "If I may speak. I think the problem here is obvious."

"It is?" Klink asked.

"Yes," Hogan replied enthusiastically. "The problem is that you are too good."

Klink looked confused to hear Hogan's praise. "I am too good?"

"Yes, sir. You have created the only perfect prison camp record but Flagg cannot help but test it. He is a man who is incapable of handling imprisonment and so his action, the breaking of his arm, has made it clear that he will escape or die trying. And with your record, I fear it will only be a matter of time before we will hold a funeral to honor the passing of this brave young man. You will allow us to hold a funeral, won't you?"

I was unsure of Hogan's angle, but Schultz seemed to be moved by Hogan's words as he blew his nose into the largest handkerchief I had ever seen.

"But it doesn't have to end this way," Hogan continued. "For I believe that this whole awful tragedy can be prevented by one single act of mercy from a man whom I know to have a good and honorable heart. If only this soldier would choose to loosen his iron grip on this camp just a little and let this one prisoner escape before he kills himself. It would spare us all a great and terrible tragedy."

Klink's face turned white during Hogan's speech but his resolve was firm. "No one escapes from Stalag Thirteen. I will not ruin my record just because a prisoner has a death wish."

Hogan sighed dramatically. "You're too principled, sir. And to think men like Kommadant Schrader will mock you when you are forced to kill a prisoner."

"Humph," Klink huffed. "Kommandant Schrader has had three escapes in the past month! His insults do not affect me."

"That is very big of you, sir."

Klink tapped his swagger stick against his knee as he considered Hogan and myself. I could tell the man was deep in thought. A few seconds later, Klink said, "You know, Hogan, perhaps I can show some mercy after all."

"You'll let Flagg escape?" Hogan cried out with a large smile.

"No! I will transfer Sergeant Flagg to Stalag Sixteen and then he can escape from Colonel Schrader's camp."

It seemed that I would have to reconsider my earlier assessment of Colonel Klink for I did not fail to notice how Hogan steered the kommandant into agreeing to my transfer. However, I did not mind being proven wrong, for it showed me that, in addition to being a traitor, Hogan was also a fool. For once I was out of Hogan's sphere of influence there would be nothing that he could do to stop me from escaping to London and making my report.

Hogan smiled as I was loaded onto the truck again, which told me that the turncoat believed that he had won. But I knew better, and I gained a small amount of pleasure from knowing that Hogan would continue on in ignorance of the truth until the moment he discovered that he had underestimated my resolve and received his just reward.

Therefore, I decided once again to play the cooperative prisoner while several guards escorted me to Stalag Sixteen. At first glance, I recognized that Stalag Sixteen was a larger camp with more stringent security than what was present at Stalag Thirteen. But any discouragement I felt at the heightened security disappeared after I was introduced to the camp's senior POW officer who would become my new and greatest asset: Colonel Rodney Crittendon.

Crittendon smiled as I approached. "Welcome to Stalag Sixteen, my dear boy."

A Brit. The Brits were our allies but one could never be sure when dealing with foreigners. I would have to tread carefully. "Colonel," I said, "it is imperative that I escape as soon as possible."

"No need to fear. I will get you out of here in no time. If you don't mind me saying, I am a bit of an expert on escape. I've done so seventeen times. Keep getting recaptured though. But you are a good strong lad. As long as you avoid farmers with pitchforks I have no doubt that you will make it."

As I listened to Colonel Crittendon's plans, I felt like smiling though I quickly squashed that dangerous instinct. I could not lose focus on my goal – not even for an instant.

For I had no doubt that this loyal son of Britain would have me back in England in no time.

And then, Colonel Hogan, I promise you that the whole world will know the truth of Hogan's traitors.


End file.
